Happy Birthday, Colt
by highway-salvation
Summary: Future Fic. After Dean and Sam sacrifice themselves to save the world, Ryan is left behind, eight months pregnant. Four years later, their son, Colt, asks to hear the story of how Ryan and Dean met.


"Colton Robert Winchester, you have thirty seconds to turn that television off and be in the bathroom brushing those chompers," Ryan yelled from the kitchen. She'd spent the last half hour scraping birthday cake and cheeseburger residue off of dishes, and had allowed Colt to stay up late to watch Power Rangers in the living room. It was his 4th birthday, and they'd invited his Aunt Emily and some of his friends from pre-school class to eat burgers and have cake. But, it was a sunday, and he had to get ready for another week of school.

The last of the dishes were stowed away their proper cabinets, and Ryan was doing her usual route around the apartment. Double checking all of the locks, turning off all of the lights, and making sure that Colt was brushing his teeth and getting himself ready for bed. She leaned against the bathroom door as he squirted some Spongebob toothpaste and started to brush. Her little man, four years old. _How is he already four_? It seemed like yesterday that she was bringing him home from the hospital, rocking him to sleep and playing Lynard Skynard on low in his nursery. At 6 months old, he wouldn't even fall asleep without _Stairway to Heaven_ playing by his crib. But she didn't question it. _Like father, like son_.

He wiped his mouth off with the designated "mouth wiping" towel and started towards his room. She turned off the light and shut the door behind him, and then headed towards his room as well. By request of her little terror, there was no wall space visible in the room. Every inch was covered by Spideman, Superman, Batman, and X-Men memorabilia ranging from posters to his comforter. He sat straight up on his bed, his legs criss-crossed over Spiderman's head. He stared at her with arched eyebrows and an expectant smile.

"What is that look?" she said, and scooted him over to make room for herself on the bed.

"You know what you promised, momma," he replied, the corners of his lips tilting into a smile.

And then she remembered the deal she'd made with her birthday boy. "_Momma, instead of Oliver Twist tonight, can you tell me a different story_?" he'd asked her while she was icing his birthday cake.

"Sure, squirt, which one?"

"_How 'bout how you and daddy met_?" He'd said the words, and they'd hung in the air like clothes on a line. The butterknife she was using to ice the cake was frozen, and the only motion she could make was to turn her head to look at her son. He was glaring at her with curious eyes--innocent eyes--eyes that hadn't seen the dangers and horrors that went on in the world outside of the apartment's walls.

"Sure, baby." she complied, but it wasn't good enough.

"_Promise_?"

"I promise."

He was still staring at her when she zoned back in on the present. With a light shake of her head, she turned to prop up his pillows. After sitting back, she stretched her arm out so that he could lean back next to her. "Okay, kemosabe, you asked for it, now you're gonna get it," she warned. She cleared her throat, and back-tracked all the way to 1998 to the first memory. The memory that would never go out of focus or alter. But, considering she was telling the story to her four year old son, she'd probably have to reword some of the bone-chilling terror that had played such a big part in their relationship.

"Well, your grandpa Bobby had gotten word that the Winchester family was in town. And boy, you shoulda seen how fast he packed up a bag and hopped into our old beat up Chevy. It took us about 15 minutes to get to their motel--when it should have taken at least 30--but your grandpa was just so excited. He hadn't seen John since before I was born," she'd changed around some of the nasty details, but that didn't matter. Colt's eyes were gleaming with curiousity and the urge for her to continue. She could talk about Dean until she was blue in the face--but it still wouldn't be enough for Colt. He wanted to know everything about his dad, down to the pattern of his favorite button-down shirt. "I can't say the same for my excitement, though. I was a little bit peeved at grandpa for forcing me to stay with some family that I'd never even met. And I knew that there were two boys in the family--which definitely didn't make things any better. I mean, c'mon, dad. A whole weekend with nothing but boys? What the heck kind of fun was that? But... I ended up having the time of my life," Colt smiled at that, a sweet, satisfied smile that gripped her heart with a tight fist.

"Now, I know you're not really into the ladies right now, and that's okay. I'm not expecting you to understand this, but someday you will. Someday, the sight of a special is gonna make your stomach twist and your heart pound. And it's gonna feel so weird at first because you've never felt it before--but then it just starts to feel right. And that's exactly how I felt when I first saw your dad," she continued. The memory was playing tricks on her--putting her in the mindset that any minute, he'd come busting through the front door, smelling like the great outdoors and ready for a massage. Hesitantly, she continued the story. She'd promised her boy, and she was going to finish it--even if she would regret it later.

"But I don't think he got that same feeling in his tummy. If he did, he didn't show it. We didn't even start out as best friends--in fact, we were at each other's throats most of the time," her voice was laced with a laugh, remembering all of the heated arguments that she and Dean would get in over petty things like hogging the bathroom or drinking the last Dr. Pepper.

"Why, momma?" Colt asked in lower pitched tone, like he was disappointed to find out that his mom and dad fought like cats and dogs.

"Well, we just didn't see eye to eye on everything. One time, he spilt his cereal milk all over my Calculus homework and tried to say that I left it there on purpose, just to get him trouble. I didn't talk to him for a whole day after that. But it was never anything too serious... and when we weren't fighting, we were talking, or driving around in the Impala, wreaking havoc on whatever town we were in at the time," she could tell Colt was starting to get sleepy, and she hadn't even given his most important birthday present.

"So you stayed with daddy and Uncle Sam?" Colt asked, catching the fact that she'd missed that detail.

"Yeah, I did, buddy. Grandpa Bobby had to go away for work, so he asked John to look after me for while. But John left for work a lot too, so most of the time, it was just the three of us. And that's pretty much it, kiddo. That feeling in my tummy just never went away. And I think after a while, daddy realized that he had that same feeling in his tummy." she tried her best to summarize the way they felt about each other--to put ten years of heartbreak, death and unalterable love into language that a four year old could understand.

"Why did daddy die?"

There it was. The question she'd been trying to avoid for four years. The question she'd hoped he wouldn't ask until he was at least six, when he had a better understanding of death. But her kid was quick on the uptake. He was a Winchester, after all.

"He died so that other people could live long happy lives with their own families. He was a hero, baby." she replied, another memory crashing into her mind.

"A superhero!" Colt spat back excitedly.

"That's right, kiddo. He was a superhero. And he loved you very much, you know. And you... you remind me _so_ much of him."

"Really?! How?!" the eagerness in his voice cause a grin to form on her lips.

"Well, you don't think that your love for ACDC and Led Zepplin was just caught out of thin air, do you? No. Your dad had dozens of cassette tapes with all of your favorite songs on them... and believe me, he listened to them _nonstop_. Just like you. And the way all the girls in your class just happen to have a huge mega crush on you? Yep, that's from your dad too. And you're brave, you're courageous, and you always think of others before you think of yourself. That's _just_ like him."

Colt didn't reply, but he didn't have to. The look on his face was answer enough.

"Okay, Spiderman, I think that's enough storytime for one birthday," she started, and leaned over to his nightstand. She opened the drawer underneath the lamp, and dug for a few seconds before pulling out a dark blue envelope with the words "_For Colt on his 4th Birthday_" written on the front. "But before you go to sleep, I have one more present for you."

"Another card? I think I've gotten enough Toys-R-Us gift cards to last us at least three Christmases, mom." he complained.

"Not quite, young sir. Here. Open it." she handed the envelope to him, and watched as he ripped through the packaging to reveal a sheet of notebook paper with writing on both sides. He stared at it for a few seconds, and then looked at her, defeated.

"Give it here," she held out her hand. She took a deep breath, cleared her throat, and started reading.

_Colt,_

_I can't believe it, dude, you're already four. Pretty soon, you're gonna be borrowing the Impala from your mom and taking your girlfriend on a date. If you're reading this, you know that I'm not around anymore. But that doesn't mean that I'm not looking our for you, buddy. No matter how far you go, I'll always be by your side. I wish I could have been at your party, but I'm sure your mom hooked you up. I told her I wanted to get you a bike for your fourth birthday--I hope she had me covered. I'm sorry that I missed it, kiddo. But just remember to be brave, son. And always watch out for your mom. She needs you more than you'll ever know, trust me on that. And don't ever forget that I'm still with you, Colt. When you get your driver's license, when you graduate from high school, when you pop the question, when your first child is born. I'll be there. Don't you worry about that._

_I love you, son. Happy birthday._

_Dad_


End file.
